La Vie Dansant
by jackwabbit
Summary: A Night Takes An Unexpected Turn, Then Another, And Another For Jack. JS.


**La Vie Dansant**

Rated: PG (minor language)

Category: Jack/Sam UST or R, Mild Angst, Fluff, Team

Season: Any, Carter is a Major, probably post 'Divide and Conquer'

Spoilers: None

Summary: A Night Takes An Unexpected Turn, Then Another, And Another…

Note: To those non-Parrotheads out there, Jimmy Buffett has an album called 'Riddles in the Sand'. It's not a happy album, but it's a good one. A while back, I realized just how many songs on said album could be applied to my favorite sci-fi 'couple', Sam and Jack. So, a self challenge to write a story for each song on the album ensued. The is the tenth. Not a song fic.

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"That's why I wander and follow La Vie the night wind that takes me just where I 's all I want…La Vie Dansante."

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I don't get out much. I prefer my own company or that of my well-known friends, like Homer and Marge and Bart, to that of strangers. Lord only knows the last time I went on a date. But I've got no complaints. I like it this way. I'm home so rarely I don't think it'd be fair to get involved with anyone anyway. Not like I could have a conversation about work or anything.

So, when Daniel called and asked if I wanted to go see a local band that was coming to one of his favorite little restaurants, I was framing my excuse before the question was out of his mouth. But tonight, for some reason, my excuses left me. Frankly, it didn't seem so bad to have some company and get out for a bit for once. Besides, Spacemonkey had been through a lot lately, and I thought it might help him out.

We arrived at the restaurant just before the band was set to play and found a table. I was more than a little perplexed at the decorations in the little Italian bistro. Inflatable palm trees, flower leis, gaudy paper parrots, and what passed for Hawaiian shirts were all around me. Daniel was wearing a sensible turtleneck, but he didn't seem fazed in the least by our surroundings. Was I missing something here? For that matter, why had Daniel asked for a table for four? Did I forget to ask who else was coming to this shindig?

All the questions, which Daniel had been dodging quite well, seemed much less important after appetizers and my second margarita, which seemed to be the house special tonight. The first had appeared without my ordering it, and while I'm usually a beer guy, I figured I'd oblige. Glad I did, too-it was damn good! So, a second followed. Despite the fact that the drinks didn't jive with the restaurant any more than the décor did, I could still get into the spirit of things. I mean, if I had to be here, I might as well enjoy myself, right? I was still pretty interested in the crowd and our surroundings, though, and as I was looking around, I saw a tall dark figure approaching our table. There was something rather familiar about the guy, and as he got closer, I recognized the face under the completely insane hat piled high with tropical fruit.

"TEAL'C?!?"

T responds with a subdued grin. "O'Neill. It is indeed good to see you here, even if I am a bit surprised by your presence." At this, Teal'c casts a strangely suspicious glance at Daniel.

"Yeah, yeah, nice to see you, too, but what the HELL are you wearing on your head?"

"I was told this was the appropriate attire for this particular outing, O'Neill, and did not wish to disappoint."

Just then, the band makes it's first appearance, and the chords of the infamous Jimmy Buffett begin to play. 'Margaritaville.' Oh. My. God. Daniel has drug me out to see a cover band, featuring none other than the tropical maestro himself. Kill me now.

Now, don't get me wrong, I liked Buffett in my day. I've had some fun with some mighty fine friends with Jimmy tunes in the background. I even still have a few albums on the top shelf. But seeing some hacks who know all of four songs butcher the soundtrack of my earlier years in, of all things, a nice little Italian place like this, just isn't my thing.

Daniel looks at me apologetically at this point, and gives me a small shrug.

"I know a guy in the band. He's been after me for years to get to a show. Come on, it can't be that bad."

I doubt Daniel would know a Buffett tune if it bit him on the ass, but somehow I refrain from saying so. Besides, the drinks here are pretty strong, and I'm feeling generous by now. I guess I'm in this for the long haul. Whatever. Since I didn't drive, I may as well make this tolerable in the only way I can. A bit of 'social lubrication' goes a long way. Another round of drinks, here, please, waiter, and for the love of all that is holy, keep 'em coming.

It's sometime later and I'm in the middle of my third large drink when I realize these guys aren't half bad. I also realize that there's a commotion behind me. When I turn to see what's going on, a sight I never in a million years expected to see greets me. Major Samantha Carter. In tropical apparel that leaves only a little to the imagination. A floral lei adorns Carter's neck above a soft pink spaghetti strap tank top and a black mid-length skirt festooned with flowers and vines. Casual pink flip-flops and a pink flower above one ear complete the ensemble.

I've never seen Carter look quite so feminine or pull off an outfit other than BDUs quite so well. I know I'm staring. A soft cough from Daniel brings me back to the land of the living.

"Sam. Glad you could make it."

Blink, O'Neill. Blink, and breathe. It's only Carter. Yeah, alright. I'm good. No biggie.

"Sorry I'm late, Daniel. I got caught up in traffic by the mall-it's terrible this close to Christmas."

"I hear that. Glad I don't have to fight it."

"No doubt." With this, Carter lets out a sigh and flops in her chair with a carefree slump that I have rarely seen from her. It seems as if tonight is 'casual Friday' in every sense of the word. Daniel, T, Carter and I have gone out before as a team and as friends, but usually the decorum befitting our ranks has still applied to Carter and I. Always a bit of formality there. Tonight, though, from fatigue or who knows what else, it's gone. I as in complete awe of this Carter, one I have seen only occasionally, and only in private. One I'm glad to see. She needs to let loose every now and then.

Having sucked down the last of my drink, I order a beer as the waiter makes another round. Carter opts for the night's special margarita, and even Daniel, who had been drinking only Coke, orders some fruity something or other. I swear, one day I'll make a beer drinker out of him yet. Just don't give me a deadline-it may take a while. T, of course, sticks to his usual orange juice.

The band continues to play a surprisingly good set and the night wears on and people dance and we eat and drink and all in all have a really good time. I'm pleasantly surprised that the evening has gone so well for me, but then again, I'm pleasantly buzzed, too. The two things are most likely related. I think everyone but Teal'c is feeling a little more carefree than usual, and the laughter bubbles up from our table on many occasions. It feels good to just hang out and be human with my best friends for once, with no threat of alien invasion or plague or some other major disaster, and it feels really good to see them happy.

Just after the intermission, my bladder finally makes it's demands for relief known. As I'm returning from a trip to the overcrowded restroom to the strains of 'He Went to Paris', I stop and stare for the second time in two hours. I think I would have stayed rooted in one spot for the rest of the evening if not for a jostle from some guy behind me. Once that brings me back to my senses, I take another look at the dance floor in the center of the room to be sure I'm not hallucinating, and hightail it back to the table to find out what the hell is going on.

Samantha Carter is dancing. Slow dancing. Closely. In the middle of a crowded restaurant, with what I presume is a stranger. Now, even though I know I shouldn't be sometimes, I'm as male as the next guy, and once my initial surprise at Carter's lack of shyness falls away, a surge of anger flares up in me. It fades as quickly as it came, though, and I'm just in awe of Carter.

I stumble into my chair before I realize I'm at the table, but I manage to sit before I make too much commotion. Daniel looks up as I lever myself into my seat, and I waste no time in making it clear that I want answers.

"Daniel, what's going on?"

"What are you talking about, Jack?" Daniel asks just a little too innocently.

"Is that Carter out there dancing?"

"No, Jack, it's her identical twin. Of course it's Sam. Why?"

"Why is she dancing?"

"Um, because some guy came over and asked her to? And she said 'sure, why not'?"

Teal'c decides now is a good time to add his requisite two cents to any story. "Indeed, Daniel Jackson, that is precisely what Major Carter said."

"'Sure, why not'? What kind of answer is that? And do we know this guy? Why would he ask Carter to dance?"

"Um…Jack, not sure if you've noticed, but, um…Sam looks really nice tonight. I'm surprised we haven't had more interest. Of course, she was with the three of us. Most probably assumed she was with one of us." At this last little bit, Daniel gives me a sideways look that I most decidedly do NOT approve of, before blundering on. "You have to at least give the guy credit for courage. I mean, there were still two of us here when he came over, and Sam herself can be pretty intimidating, and…"

"Alright, Daniel, I get the point. The guy's been sitting there all night working up the guts to come over and ask Carter to dance and finally got enough alcohol in his system to do it, despite the fact that you two were here. I get it. Oh, and for the record, I noticed." I hurl this last part at Daniel rather churlishly and with a glare, but come on, like I could have NOT noticed.

"Of course, it was not until you left that the gentleman made his request, O'Neill." Teal'c delivers this bit of information with a slight increase in the Jaffa smirk and a left eyebrow raise that rivals any Vulcan you can imagine.

Teal'c, I'm going to hurt you now. After I kill Daniel for the 'why, Jack, whatever is the matter' smug grin that's plastered all over his face. Are you guys trying to kill me? As if I don't have enough issues to deal with between Carter and I. I don't need you two playing matchmaker or whatever it is you're doing. Knock it off already.

Buzzkills.

Not even the sound of the band changing tunes to a rare cut can bring me out of my moodiness now. These guys really are pretty good, but I don't care anymore. I just want out of here. I lean back in my chair, disengage myself from the world, and order another beer as Carter's partner loses the next dance to a fellow patron. It's not that I mind her having a good time and dancing. It's not that I'm jealous. Really. At least not much. It's that Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum over here have reminded me of all the bits of unidentifiable emotions that swirl around like papers in the wind when I think about Carter. I was fine to just sit and watch in fascination while she danced. Really. I don't have to be the one up there to appreciate all that is Carter. I've stood in the shadows for a long time. I can stay there, admiring from a safe distance. I can usually forget my feelings. But now…now all I can think about is what I really want, if I even know what that is, whether I should do something about this 'thing' between Carter and I, whether she might feel the same way I do, whether retirement is an option, whether I'm even worth it for her…alcohol and introspection don't work well for me. Thanks, guys. You're good friends. Not. I know you were just playing around, but all the questions your teasing brought up are hard ones for me. Ones that scare me. Ones I don't like to think about.

I want to go home. I feel like a party-pooper, but there you have it. I want to go home. I could always call a cab. I'm just waiting long enough for that to be ok. I'm spaced out enough that I don't even notice Daniel is talking to me.

"JACK!"

"What!?! You don't have to shout, Daniel-what do you want?"

"Well, I've been talking to you for about ten minutes and haven't gotten a word out of you. Lighten up, would ya? You're making it dark in here."

Daniel must be drunk from the little fruity nonsense he's been drinking. First off, it's already dark, Dannyboy, the lights aren't on. Second, when did you start talking to me like that?

"I mean, seriously, a guy can't take a little teasing? Can't take a little ribbing from his buds without being thrown into a funk for the rest of the night? Get over yourself, Jack-o."

Jack-o?!? Now I know he's toast. Teal'c is sitting over there barely stifling that Jaffa grin of his, and I can't say as I blame him. Daniel trying mightily to chew me out is pretty funny. Hysterical, in fact. Daniel just keeps on rolling, oblivious, as always.

"I mean, all I was saying was that if you were that upset by Sam's dancing with a stranger, then perhaps you ought to do ask her to dance yourself, Jackieboy."

Now it's Jackieboy?!? I try not to laugh, being as it doesn't fit into my gloomy mood, and I want to see how worked up Daniel can get, but I can't help it. First a chuckle and then a full laugh come out unbidden. T loses it, too, and before we know it, all three of us are laughing like hyenas, and we don't even know why. Daniel is apparently unaware that Teal'c and I are laughing at his expense, but that's ok. It's making me feel better regardless.

Carter takes this moment to re-appear, looking flushed, somewhat sweaty, and very hot. Talk about timing. That last beer and the laughter have re-established my pleasant buzz, and Daniel's last coherent sentence comes back to me. 'Why the hell not?!?' screams my emboldened brain.

Why the hell not, indeed?

I stand while Daniel and T finally manage to get a grip on themselves. Good. Wouldn't want them to miss this. After all, it's all their fault.

"My lady. So good of you to rejoin us. Would you care to dance?"

For just a moment, I nearly turn and run. I want to floor to open up and swallow me. Carter's eyes get real big, and she looks like she's going to say no. It would be understandable. The band's playing a faster number now, and she does look like she might want a break. Still, even that little bit of rejection after all of this tonight would be too much. I can see her weighing all her options in that damned scientific brain, and I know I'm going to lose. But, wonder of wonders, she surprises me again.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Holy shit! Take that, younger blonde guy who only got a 'sure, why not?'! I got a WAY better answer than you! I got a 'thought you'd never ask'! Hah!

Daniel and T are looking at me like I've lost my mind, but that just sweetens the pot. The only drawback to this little proposal of mine is the tune. Fast and active isn't really my thing right now, and Carter doesn't seem up to the task, either. Oh, well. No going back now. I start to lead her out onto the dance floor, when she reaches back for a quick sip of water. Thank God she does, because the band finishes up and begins an intro for what seems to be the last song of the night. The band leader makes an apology for those fans in the crowd who really like the, as he put it, 'more typical' Buffett songs (which intrigues me immensely), and wishes everyone a good night and safe journeys before beginning a slow, sweet sounding tune.

Perfect. I actually know this one. Not well, but well enough. So right.

Carter and I make it to the dance floor and move together to the sounds of a tropical breeze.

Teal'c is looking on with that little infuriating grin and Daniel just looks amazed, but I only register these things in my peripheral vision. My world is filled with the sights and scents of one Major Samantha Carter. Perfect. Intoxicating and dangerous, but perfect.

The dance is short, like the song, and the night ends far too quickly after it, with all of us collecting our coats and things (including some more sensible shoes Carter had in her bag-I can't help but smile as that practical side comes out again).

We all pile into the government sedan Teal'c borrowed for the night and get dropped off at our respective houses by our friend the sober Jaffa. I fall asleep in my clothes with a smile on my face and the soft strains of fitting lyrics in my head. Thank goodness I do indeed wander and follow the dancing life. Sometimes it turns out alright, even if only for a night.


End file.
